


The Story of a Starry night

by hayj



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Bonfire, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:58:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 356
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hayj/pseuds/hayj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the NBC Revolution LJ comm’s 50 prompts in 50 days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Story of a Starry night

He sees her there on the fringes, where the light from the bonfire meets the starry night. There’s an impromptu band set up as Texas soldiers celebrate the end of the war.   
  
Carrying two bottles of what passes for beer these days, he makes his way to her watching as the ghost of a smile plays around her mouth when she sees him coming. Handing her a bottle he moves to stand behind her, planting his feet firmly in the red dirt that cakes in the wrinkles around his neck and eyes, one hand at her waist. It’s not something they’ve ever done before but tonight it feels like the right thing to do. Taking a sip from her bottle, Charlie leans back against his chest, her free hand moving to cover his where it rests low on her belly.   
  
He leans closer so she can hear him over the all of the whooping and hollering. “Having a good time?”   
  
She shrugs her shoulders, the bare skin exposed by her tank brushing against his beard. “It’s not really my scene,” she replies tilting her head back so that her lips brush against his ear, as his hand moves from her belly to just below her breasts on the pretense of keeping her steady.   
  
“What is your scene?” he asks, his nose nudging at her ear.   
  
Charlie tilts her head back to look at the night sky. “Do you remember that first trip to Willoughby? It was so quiet at night the sound of the crickets was almost deafening and the stars were so bright we didn’t need a fire? Just a bedroll?” she asks turning in his arms.   
  
Bass reaches up to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand. “I know the perfect spot,” he whispers as she leans into his touch.   
  
With a shy smile she takes his offered hand as he leads her through the crowd, smiling and waving to those who greet them as they make their way out of camp.   
  
Miles, who’s been playing the guitar the entire time, smiles to no one in particular as he watches them leave. 


End file.
